The horses of Bruges

The horses of Bruges
tell a long story
of a lost princess who chased the geese

Smells like Christmas

It smells like Christmas in my kitchen,
smells like the time I stopped
in the heart of the house

right in the middle like a clot
not moving nor let anyone move
to make Christmas over cold stoves

here is a list of things you need for cake
that serves 6, realistically
even if you are on your own:

* peeled apples
* 3/4 sugar
* flour
* cinnamon
* nutmeg
* salt (to taste)

I stand on a flat corner
kneading the flour
needing a listening ear

I stand in the corner
in my house,
shaking like a belly dancer after a long show
cupping powdered sugar to an empty heart

Longing for you in midwinter

Foxgloves in hedges,

Surround the farms,

This is the charm of winter:

People fall in love

And I long for your arms.

question on origin, once more

I have once asked earth
am I from you?
when I do not have dirt in my hair

it laughed,
all I could know is that
I don't not know for sure

where I descended from
an earth or a sky
or probably a bit of them both.

No one has loved enough

No one has loved me enough
you blink and tell me
to name stars after me

as if stars are lovers
when the night sky is lit

it is little moments we will remember.

Commonly Royal

Horse drawn carriage arrives

just like in the movies, except 

the common has become a royal 

with the bond of love 

one arrives, one departs

On the gateway,
in the same hour, like swallows my friends
one arrives, one departs from my hands.

this halloween

Heart of a mouse
you have the skin of a lion
hard to say how much our costumes fool us

Pandora's box

held the world's ills in her hands
a young woman without complaint, brushes
the blood out of his torn shirt, give her the name of a thousand
nightingales for she can stand to carry a weight so heavy
there is something about opening
the box, who knew how many demons could pass
through one human heart and leave it intact?

Ask Pandora if she dares answer,
tongue turned inward by fear or what was left unopened.

a fairy-tale origin

Three pomegranates fell from a tree

down to where a horse was drinking 

sprouted three young maidens and a prince

this is the preface to a short story about 

where I grew and how I came to be, a woman